


Your Move

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Hotel Sex, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Male Slash, Showers, Slash, Spanish National Team, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergio is slightly depressed and Fernando wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Move

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torres](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torres/gifts).



Sergio glances up from his phone to look at Fernando, who is sitting next to him. His eyes run slowly, almost carefully, over the face of one of his closest friends. It is a face Sergio knows like the back of his hand. A face he has seen twisted into smiles, tears of joy and sorrow, grimaces, and the list goes on and on. Feeling Sergio’s gaze Fernando glances up and gives him a questioning look. Sergio shakes his head and turns to look out the window of the bus. 

They are on their way to an international friendly in Paris, and all have to put aside previous prejudices and rivalries so they can again don the shirts of La Roja. It feels good to have Fernando at his side again, playing together, not against each other like they usually do, blue against white. 

The weather outside is not happy. Fat, grey clouds block the sun and give everything a dull edge as if nothing has life. The thought is a depressing one and it makes Sergio think about all the other unhappy events that have happened recently. His partner, Pilar, has left him taking their son, and all because being his girlfriend is too stressful. He sigh thinking of how he had just let her go without so much of a fight. She had promised to bring their son by and ultimately thats what mattered most.

The bus stops outside their hotel and Sergio gives Fernando a slap on the back to get him up. Fernando tears himself away from his phone and looks up. 

“Already?” He asks, voice hoarse from disuse.

“Yes, lazy-ass.” Sergio grins and punches Fernando in the arm. There must have been a shadow of what had been on his mind previously because Fernando gets that mother-henish look on his face. However, before Fernando can say anything everyone is flooding out of the bus in a loud stream that picks him up and carries him out the door momentarily losing Sergio and his opportunity. 

When they meet up back in the lobby of the hotel, Fernando decides to not say what he was going to and Sergio is silently grateful. 

Their room is small, just two beds barely separated by a nightstand, a bathroom and a small TV. Sergio is too tired to care and immediately spreads out over one of the beds, sprawling out until he covers most of it. 

“Going to take a shower.” Fernando announces and Sergio groans.

“Hang on, I have to take a piss.” He says, reluctantly getting up.

“Be quick.” Fernando says and begins rummaging through his overnight bag.

Sergio takes care of his business and quickly exits. When he hears the shower go on, he lays back down on the bed and unzips his fly. Taking out his cock he begins to slowly stroke himself up and down with the back of his hand. His body begins to react and he can feel the blood rushing downward. 

Sergio thinks about Fernando in the shower, and allows his hand to move a little faster, grasping himself tight, but not too tight. He thinks about running his hands over Fernando’s tattoos, because he knows them by heart with his eyes, but not hands. His thought fill with Fernando and his hand moves faster and he’s so caught up in his brain and his pleasure that he doesn’t hear the shower go off or the door to the bathroom opening.

Fernando has always taken very long showers so the thought of being caught never really crossed Sergio’s mind. So as he reaches his climax he allows himself one sound, one word, one almost whisper, a hiss, “Fernando.” His back arches a little off the bed and when he slumps back down he’s sweaty and panting. 

Sergio opens his eyes and to his mortification finds Fernando watching him, a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist. Sergio jolts into a sitting, struggling to zip himself, and wondering how long Fernando was watching him. In a less then four strides Fernando is next to his bed and pushing Sergio’s hands away. Sergio freezes, it’s Fernando’s move now, it’s his choice.

The towel hits the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to torres because you are such an awesome writer and I love your stuff it inspires me.  
> Suggestions welcome.  
> You know the drill.


End file.
